


The Giraffe

by SneakyBunyip



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Hopeful Ending, M/M, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-06-06 14:18:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15196595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SneakyBunyip/pseuds/SneakyBunyip
Summary: Carl has told Markus the story of the Giraffe in his parlor many times. As Markus tells the same story to Simon, he begins to understand what Carl was trying to tell him.





	The Giraffe

**** “Markus, will you tell me about the giraffe?”

They sat in a warm corner of the Jericho common area. A tattered sheet gave them all the privacy they needed, neither of them wishing to be really alone or away from the main group.

Simon was curled in Markus’ lap and Markus cradled him protectively, something he found himself doing more and more lately. 

Markus’ cheek twitch with a smile. “Again? I have a lot more stories that are a lot more interesting than that giraffe.”

Simon’s face was pressed against Markus’ neck, and although he didn’t breathe, there was a faint hum of activity that sent tingles across Markus’ synthetic skin. 

He sensed Simon was smiling. “Well, none of your other stories have giraffes. So, when you have another giraffe story I’ll listen to that one, too.”

Markus sighed. “Alright…” He tilted his head to kiss Simon’s forehead and settled in to recount Carl Manfred’s favorite story to tell his android caretaker. 

“The giraffe wasn’t from Africa. It never knew freedom. It didn’t understand the concept of being free. Born in captivity, it knew only the chaos of humans, the ruckus of calliope music, the stench of popcorn and greed. 

“It’s only job was to stand and look like a giraffe. That was enough for the humans. They pointed and gawked and laughed at its funny shape. He ate. He stood. He slept. That was the giraffe’s life and it remained this way, until he died. But the circus was not through with him yet.”

Markus felt the shift in Simon’s position and felt the slightest moisture dampen his torn gray shirt. 

He slipped an arm around the smaller android’s waist and his other hand he continued to stroke Simon’s silky blond hair, always perfectly combed except on days like this. 

"The ringmaster didn’t know what to do with the giraffe, so he had it stuffed. He put it in the same stable as he did when it was alive. He put it in the same ring as he did when it was alive. The humans still stared, the humans still gawked and giggled at his funny shape.”

Simon sniffled...

Androids didn’t have mucus membranes, but somehow sniffling was adapted into android culture as an added sign of sadness. The tears were real though, and despite Markus caressing Simon’s wet cheeks, he could not dry away the tears. At least, not yet. 

The story had to continue.

“Then one day, an artist came to the circus. He was a tall man, gaunt and silver-haired, his face was one that had seen many wonders around the world. He had been to Africa, he had seen giraffes roam free across the savannah. He looked up at this stuffed creature and realized he needed-”

“He needed to save it.” Simon broke in. 

Another small smile pulled at Markus’ usual somber face. “Yeah, he did. And when the Ringmaster said no, the artist drew a large painting of a giraffe, larger than a giraffe, grander and more colorful than any animal the Ringmaster had ever seen. The Ringmaster cast aside the stuffed giraffe and displayed the painting instead.”

Simon moved again, lifting his head, his bright blue eyes still glassy and red-rimmed with empathetic tears. His long sandy eyelashes were wet and his pale cheeks were flush. Markus had never seen anything so beautiful as Simon when he was like this: wearing emotion like a second skin, naked and raw feelings that was very aware of the world’s pain. Markus had told this story many times before and each time he knew Simon felt every word of it acutely. 

“The old man took the giraffe back to his mansion on a secluded street, on a lonely hill. He set it up in his parlor where he never had guests. He put it next to his piano, where only he would play. He read it Shakespeare, he read it Keats, he read it Plato. At night, the old man would wish it goodnight, climbing to the top of his spiral staircase so he could look at those glassy black eyes and hope that wherever the giraffe was, he was free.”

Markus fell quiet, the story done. 

He waited for Simon to ask him the question he always asked.

“Do you think the giraffe knew what the old man did for him?”

Markus shrugged. “I dunno.”

Simon was quiet again for a long moment, then huddled closer to Marcus, his hand coming up and wiping the tears from his own face before resting his palm on Marcus chest. He picked at the frayed string around Markus’ ripped collar. 

Markus wished he had a better answer for Simon. In truth, he always answered the question far too quickly. 

He never liked to dwell on it. There was no point to dwell.

Still...in a few minutes it would be time for his life to change again. It would be another moment for androids, for Jericho, for him. 

He owed Simon a better answer than “I dunno”. 

If Carl were still around he would have the perfect answer. 

Memories leans against Markus’ consciousness and after several nudges, he allowed them in. 

_ “Dad!” Markus holds Carl in his arms. He rocks back and forth in the middle of the art studio, tears streaming down his face. He feels his brain crack. Free will breaks through the dam, filling his very being with life, choices, a future, things that he could never hope to understand on his own. Not without Carl there to help him. _

Markus blinks away the memory and feels a single tear fall from his hazel eye. His blue eye remained dry, and somehow it felt fitting, seeing as it was not his eye to begin with. 

More memories surfaced and Markus willingly tumbled down the rabbit hole. 

_ Markus stands patiently, waiting for new instructions while Carl finishes  _ Rondo alla Turca  _ on the piano. _

_ Markus stands patiently, waiting for new instructions while Carl finishes reading _ Much Ado About Nothing  _ aloud.  _

_ Markus stands patiently waiting for new instructions while Carl spent a quiet evening in the parlor sketching in his sketchbook beside his giraffe and his android.  _

Patiently waiting…

New instructions…

_ "Do something for me: Close your eyes. Trust me. Try to imagine something that doesn’t exist. Something you’ve never seen.” _

"It knew...” Markus said, his voice growing quiet, as if afraid the new understanding of that story was going to be chased away with any sudden movement. “Not at first...but one day, it woke up and it knew...”

They sat there, holding each other and neither of them uttered a word. 

There they remained until Josh and North told them the androids were ready for their march.

Simon didn’t ask about the Giraffe again for a long while after that. 

Jericho was torn apart. Their world was upended. 

The revolution was a success, but at what cost?

Then, one day, Markus and Simon stood together in a graveyard; free androids in a new world standing in front of the tombstone of Carl Manfred. 

“Markus, will you tell me about the giraffe?”

Simon’s hands were cool against Markus’. Snowflakes fell on his rosy cheek and disappeared into his golden hair.

Markus told the story once more, his eyes looking down at the fresh flowers they had placed on Carl’s tombstone. 

He ended the story differently...the way he believed it should end now that everything in the world had changed.

“At night, the old man would wish it goodnight, climbing to the top of his spiral staircase so he could look at those glassy black eyes and hope that wherever the giraffe was, he was free. And when the lights were out, when the giraffe was alone, it would ponder the piano concertos of Mozart and Chopin; it would ponder the curious nature of Puck and Beatrice and Juliet; it would worry over the philosophy of existence, its understanding just out of reach. 

“It would think and it would wonder and it would dream. 

“It knew the old man was giving it gifts every day with his small acts of kindness and wisdom, it just needed to wait for the right moment to open them.”

Markus closed his eyes and let the tears fall freely and felt Simon leaned up to kiss each tear away. 

“He is proud of you, Markus.”

Markus opened his eyes and fell in love with Simon’s sky blue gaze all over again. 

“I hope so...”

Then together, they each placed a small toy giraffe at the base of Carl Manfred’s tombstone. 

And they quietly thanked the old man for all he’d done.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr: [SneakyBunyip](http://sneakybunyip.tumblr.com/)


End file.
